


War Games

by Ysavvryl



Series: MMX Alternate Timeline [2]
Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series, Social Issues, Terrorism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysavvryl/pseuds/Ysavvryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which we learn why it is a darn good thing that X never turned against humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Games

X scrolled through his messages. The usual Maverick Hunter announcements, a note from Zero regarding his previous training exercise, a few junk bits that got past security filters, a message marked ‘MH-HQ Message 209-ELE: Random Selection/War Game’. Puzzled at the non-standard message number, he opened it first.

 

To Recipient:

In one month, global law enforcement agencies will hold a live war game simulating a terrorist attack on a city. To make this simulation as realistic as possible, one member is randomly picked to act as the terrorist leader. You have been selected and approved based on numbers in your test records to act as this leader.

Here are the rules for the war games for the terrorist side: 

  1. You may not knowingly harm anyone or anything. All participants, civilian and military, will be wearing simulate damage badges to prove ‘damage’, ‘kills’, and other results. You will be provided with simulate weapons and explosives as fit your needs.

  2. You may choose your companion terrorists from any participating organization: Interpol, Marines, International Guardians, Armed Forces Worldwide, Maverick Hunters, and International Security Forces. All listed organizations will be working against you.

  3. You may chose any ‘terrorist goal’ you wish to simulate.




Please report your companions and goals one week prior to the war games. Your reply will not be released to anyone (unless the rules are broken) until two weeks after the war games are complete. It will be to your advantage to release this information on a need to know basis only. To receive the simulate equipment, calculate your need and budget and send the list to this message address. It will be given to you by secret arrangement.

If you feel uncomfortable in this position, you may deny this request. Send such a denial immediately, so the war games are not delayed too long.

This is a test for all of our agencies. We put our hopes in that you will come up with an appropriate methodology.

\--- Global Government Council

 

They wanted him to act as a terrorist? At least it proved itself random. X was not held in high regard within the Hunters, and for good reason. He disliked battle and violence, which made him invariably different from every other Hunter. His systems were weak in comparison to the other reploids. Archaic even, for he’d been made a hundred years before everyone else. And his optimism and idealism marked him for failure; at least if what Sigma said was true.

In fact, the sole person in the Hunters who saw promise in X was his polar opposite, Zero. Not even X knew what the master swordsman was thinking when he offered to personally train the ‘old idealist’. Zero had apparently decided on a whim to take him in. Or maybe it was a challenge.

X was tempted to send back a denial request immediately. What could he do as a mock terrorist against every law enforcement agency in the world? He had no idea what. But then he decided to sleep on it, think it over. It would be a personal challenge. Zero had been pushing him to do something like that, to develop himself and find out what he was capable of. That was his way of thinking. It might be good to try.

* * *

 

X considered the war game while looking through records of past games with randomly picked terrorists. He was thinking of who he’d take with him. Zero was an obvious choice. His mentor was accustomed to accomplishing his goals with apparent ease, no matter what the odds. He thought of putting random requests out to other agencies, to find people with skills one or both of them lacked.

But looking through the old records, X realized what a headache it must be to organize such a group. He was a first-year Hunter with no experience in command and strategy. Many past failures on the mock terrorist side could be accounted as poor planning, limited deadline, and poor leadership. One of the terrorist group would fall and the whole unit would come apart.

Not only that, but the agencies seemed to expect certain patterns from their war games. Large skilled groups, outright battle, hostage situations, things like that. If X really wanted to test them, he’d have to come up with something novel. Zero would be willing to help X in plotting this madness. On the day he accepted the war game position, he planned on asking for that help.

X looked up at the vertical hall. There were spikes littered everywhere, even on enemies. Getting up there would take precise wall jumping. “You sure anyone would be mad enough to build this sort of thing?”

“You never know what you will face,” Zero said, “so you must train for every possibility, no matter how remote.”

“Still, this is just… demented.”

“Make it to the top.” Zero dash-jumped up the platforms and was up in no time.

X studied the spiked wall. Yeah, it was easy for him to do that, with dash-boots. X had no such thing. But Zero had given him a grapple hook attachment. He slowly made his way up the vertical halls, clinging to safe walls as long as possible and using the grapple to swing from enemies onto platforms just out of his reach.

Zero had a playful smile on his face when he made it to the top. “Provided you weren’t being chased by rising lava, you would have made it.”

“Rising lava?”

“It could happen.” He paused, then gave X that steeled look. It made him think Zero could see right through him. “What are you thinking about? Something else is on your mind.”

He was thinking about how he must train for every possibility. No matter how remote. That told him he should try this war game solo. “I have that law test to pass, remember? In just two days.”

“Oh, that.” Zero shook his head. “Those legality and intelligence tests are a pain in the neck. But you’re sharp. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

He did have to worry about how long he could keep this secret from Zero.

* * *

 

That was all he had to inform, Zero thought. That just left X to talk to. He didn’t have to speak to X about the upcoming war games. X would get the official report from his leader. Of course, he didn’t have to train him personally. He wanted to do this.

As he expected, X was in the common area, playing the piano. He’d been doing that the first time Zero met him, the first reploid. It had seemed odd at the time that any reploid would be playing music. It wasn’t normal. “Hey, X.”

He smiled, as he always did. “Hi Zero. What are you doing?”

“Not much. Listen, you’ll probably hear all about this later, but we’ve got war games coming up.”

“War games?”

“It’s a training exercise for everyone. Not just our group, but most of the world’s law enforcement systems. Everyone in the Hunters is required to participate.”

He pulled his hands off the keys. “I see. Like a test?”

“It is. You’ll get good battle experience in. Nobody pulls punches in these games.”

“What are we doing?”

“We won’t know until it happens. That’s part of the test. You’ll get all the details shortly, but the gist of it is, one city is chosen for a battleground. Everyone in the city, visitor, citizen, soldier, whomever, is given a badge to wear. It registers health and life status in response to simulated attacks. They’ll give you a special virtual lock to put on your buster. And you must act according to your status. If the system says your arm is shot out, you can’t use that arm.”

“What if you get killed in sim?”

“They teleport you out and leave a virtual body for the medical teams to pick up.”

“Huh.”

Zero sat on the piano bench. “At least you only need a virtual lock on your buster. Do you know how much of a headache it is to work with a virtual blade? It reacts realistically to other virtual blades, but anything else it just bounces off.”

“So it’s like the holo-missions, in the real world…more or less.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“I guess.”

“You’re doing well X. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble against ordinary enemies. And this is just another test.”

“Only on a huge scale.”

“Real life scale.”

“So we have no idea what’s going to happen?”

“I’ve been on the mock terrorist side before, so I know they have to register their goals and equipment. But that information is securely locked from everyone until two weeks later.”

“Almost like the real thing.”

Zero glanced around. “Almost. When do you go back on duty?”

“I’ve got another hour off.”

“Good. You come with me and I’ll duel you in holo.”

X laughed. “You’ll duel me? Isn’t that more like slaughter?”

“I’ll fight you armed only with a slingshot.”

“Somehow that still seems unfair.”

* * *

 

Three days before the scheduled start date, X received his equipment. He’d requested a lot of flash bombs, the loudest ones they had. He also requested two dozen fake badges. They would be marked as terrorist, but no one could read him as such until he was positively identified. If the badge he was wearing reported him dead, he had to comply with that. If he had multiple badges, he could play identity thief.

He also had a mini-comp, primed for ‘hacking’. That was key to his plans, as was a cell phone. The war games committee had come through on everything he’d asked for. Hopefully, the secrecy was real and no one had a clue what was coming.

The official start time was 0600 hours. The games would last for a week or until his capture, whichever came first. But he could start whenever he felt like. He just couldn’t ‘attack’ until official start time. He started by signing up for inspection group.

The evening before the war game, X met with his squad for a briefing. They all wore the game badges, in accordance to the player rules. X wore his fake Maverick Hunter badge, indistinguishable from the authentic badge.

“Remember your actions should be as if this were a real situation,” the squad leader said. “Because for the next week, it will be real.”

X restrained himself from smiling. He was already acting.

* * *

 

It was 0415. X’s internal alarm woke him. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a camp outside the target city. All the agencies involved had a base close to Chicago for this exercise. X had visited all of them on his inspection job.

Other Hunters were nearby, sleeping soundly. To be certain, X reached into his pillowcase. He activated his helmet, put on a filtration mask, and set off a sleeping gas bomb. He had researched how far he could stretch the first rule. Using sleeping gas designed to afflict reploids did not break it.

Ten minutes later, he got out of bed. X pulled out his knapsack. Inside were three of his loud flash bombs, his first terrorist badge, and a small fan motor. First, the fan motor. He placed it on his bed, under his blanket. It was for office use, where silent operation was desirable. He pulled off the Hunter badge, placed it on the fan motor, and turned the motor on. It was a little fact he’d discovered when studying up for this game: the reploid badges could be fooled by another machine with some adjustments. Then he set one of the flash bombs right by his bed, so that he would be one of the first to ‘die’.

The other flash bombs he placed in the tent. He did mental calculations until he found the arrangement for maximum virtual damage. With that done, he put on his terrorist badge and snuck out of the Hunter camp. He knew where all the security functions were. Outside the camp, he located another knapsack he had planted earlier. He pulled out his mini-comp and searched for signals to his bombs. He was ready at 0549. X waited.

At 0600 hours, the camp bell went off to awaken everyone. Immediately after it ended, X hit ‘detonate’. The massive noise was impressive, even where he was. And it wasn’t just the Hunter camp. On his ‘inspection’ tours, he’d planted other flash bombs in the other camps. Only a few seconds into the game and he’d already scored a mass hit.

His mini-comp brought up a list of the dead and injured. He was listed as ‘death: irreparable.’ And the injured list included a large number of S-ranked Hunters. They hadn’t been in his tent. They must have gathered to chat before the games started, within the blast zone. X watched for several minutes as the leadership team of the Hunters regrouped to include his mentor Zero. This was an interesting development.

X closed up his knapsack and took off into the city. He had a long week ahead.

* * *

 

Zero took up command positions on occasion, when they were hard-pressed. From the looks of things, he was going to have this one all week. Crap.

Sigma walked up to him. He had a limp. Zero saluted. “Are you going to be able to work like that?”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled. “We’ve got a number of squads reduced to three members or less. You will be taking command over those men.”

He nodded. “All right. Get me the names and I’ll contact them.”

“You’ll receive them in a bit. Oh, and your little friend, the old one.”

“X?”

“He’s dead. Was in the middle of the blast zone.”

They were to act as if this were real. “If I find the bastard who did this, you won’t be seeing him.”

Sigma smiled. “I’m aware of that. Try to control your temper.”

* * *

 

In the past month, X had scouted out the target city on foot and in words. He read local news, history, and business reports. He slipped about the city passing himself off as an ordinary citizen reploid. He set off three more bombs the first day, but mostly spent it scouting out key areas. He did not want to take unnecessary chances.

In the evening, he went into a weapons store. He’d thought about this for a while. Choosing to do it now was part of his in-game character. A slight slip-up that the agencies might catch, if they looked. X decided on giving them this chance to make up for attacking in the first minute. “Good evening,” he told the storekeeper.

“Good evening sir.” He noticed the badge, which resembled a citizen badge. “What are you here for?”

“I’d like to get a range upgrade on my natural weapon. It’s for skeet shooting.”

He nodded. “Very popular hobby now. I’ve got some great stuff in. Power upgrades, rate upgrades.”

“I just need a range upgrade.”

“I have that too. You sure that’s all?”

“Yeah, I’m decent right now, it’s just that my range stinks.”

“So you only have a split second. I gotcha. Come on over and we’ll measure your current ability.”

“Okay.”

The shopkeeper began hooking him up and noticed the virtual lock. “Oh, and we have to update your lock, don’t we? For these games.”

X nodded. Even citizen reploids were given weapon locks. The law would try to keep vigilantes down, as normal, but there were hotheads and private agencies out there. Any of them would gain reputation and honor for ‘winning’ a war game over the official agencies. “I know. I tried to get in before these games started, you know, to avoid the fuss. But my employer squeezes all the time I have.”

“I hear you,” the shopkeeper said.

They kept chatting. X stuck to his character and made a point of mentioning one thing, “Did you hear the Authoritarians are holding their hate session despite the games?”

“They’re idiots,” the shopkeeper said. “Don’t let their sort get to you.”

The Authoritarians wanted all reploids destroyed. If not destroyed, then outlawed and branded visibly. “They have no idea what we’re like. We get hurt too by their insults and demonstrations.”

“They’ve agreed to the terms of the war games, so that’s something.”

“Still, it isn’t right, that the government is allowing them to join in.”

They talked some more during the installation. X paid for it in cash. “Oh, and you think you can keep this on the quiet side? My employer isn’t keen on weapon upgrades, even for sport.”

“I have to stick to the law,” he said. Then he added slyly, “Although I can give you insurance against your employer finding out if you’re willing.”

X had complained about a strict employer several times, laying the groundwork for this. “Certainly.”

He wound up paying fifty zenny more for silent registry. That wasn’t enough to keep this totally secret. It was little known to civilians that reploid weapons and upgrades could be traced to mechanic shops by certain energy characteristics. Such markers were put into use to help law enforcement keep track of illegal weapon sales or criminal uses. This was a planned mistake on X’s part. Anything else was a true mistake.

Hopefully, there would be few of those.

* * *

 

Morning the second day. X had slept in the storage garage. It was the best solution to the problem. Renting a room now would send up red flags. Staying in a shelter was out of the question, since reploids were rare in homeless shelters. He knew no one in the city that’d be willing to take him in. So here had to do.

He slipped out of the facility and made his way to a public park, where people were walking or eating breakfast. Using his hacker mini-comp, he checked on the progress of his enemies. They were reviewing evidence and searching for a group, not an individual. X smiled. So far, so good.

A nearby radio was playing a local morning talk program. He listened until they started talking about the war games. They too had to play it like it was real, although small disclaimers reassured people that this was the games, not real attacks. They had a local bounty hunter group on talking about the bombings.

X turned on his cell phone and called the radio station.

“This is IZTK 101, do you have a question for the bounty hunters about the recent terrorist attacks?”

He noted the radio was a second off. Perfect. “Not really. I have an answer to one of your questions though.”

“You do?”

“I am responsible for these attacks.”

This was a tricky maneuver, but he felt it was worth the effort. He’d been told many times that his voice was easily recognized, that he sounded like an adolescent boy. An audio filter sent his voice as clear but much deeper. Some fiddling with the cell phone mechanics made him untraceable, or at least so tricky to trace it would take them time to do so. Being in an open area while making such a call was a risk in itself, unless one had a static sound filter. Such filters were commonplace with businessmen and politicians. He merely had to block view of his mouth in case of lip readers.

“You’re one of the terrorist block?” a bounty hunter asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Why are you calling this radio station?”

“I felt the public should know that the wicked are being punished. This is a noble calling and the cries of the previously silent will be heard. The guilty ones shall not get away.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“The right thing. There will be many more explosions before this week is out. And, if you’ll excuse my boast, no one is on the right track.”

“How can you be sure of that?” the host asked cheekily.

“We’ll see in time who is right. That is all.” He hung up.

He checked the mini-comp. Someone had tried tracing him, unsuccessfully. And it was time to go place another bomb. He made his way to the next target.

* * *

 

The third day. The leaders of the participating agencies were getting nervous. Usually by this point in the games, there had been a big battle, or an arrest. So far, there’d only been bombings and taunts. And they didn’t know who was in terrorist block or what they were up to.

“Whoever this is has got some nerve,” Sigma said it best. “Calling radio and TV stations, attacking in broad daylight. And we’ve yet to get a lead?”

“We have a radical theory,” the Interpol leader said. “But it’s based on proven personality profiles and attack patterns.”

“And that is?” the Marine general asked.

“This is the work on an individual.”

Everyone was skeptical. An ISF commander said, “An individual that chooses to play the war game solo? That is a mark of insanity.”

“It is the mark of an intelligent and cautious person, a careful planner, but he or she wants others to know why this is happening. An individual who wouldn’t raise suspicions on sight; someone who can slip into the crowds and vanish in plain sight. This is the sort of person the profilers suggest.”

* * *

 

Interpol was on the right track. X’s mini-comp reported they were looking for an individual. The other groups were hesitant to accept that. They were looking for a small group, perhaps a soloist.

He was precariously kneeling on a fifth story ledge. Not many people or cameras looked up here. And he wasn’t in much danger. He had his wall cling ability; although he couldn’t stick in one spot, he could avoid long falls.

He had already placed his bomb, targeting a business office. This particular company mistreated their reploids. He had a purpose in mind. As he scanned the crowd below, he spotted a group of Marines patrolling the next block over. They might think to look up and notice him. X readied his buster.

So far, he’d only practiced sniping with other weapons. Now that he had better range, he felt he could do it. Acting with as much caution as speed would allow, he aimed for the Marines. He fired.

These were humans. One was teleported away. The others braced themselves. One put on a VR lens to trace the shot. X darted around the corner until he reached an alleyway. He hopped down the wall. He composed himself and slipped into pedestrian traffic. Despite the war game attacks, citizens were advised to keep life as normal as possible.

A few blocks down, he pulled out his mini-comp and detonated the office bombs.

* * *

 

The head Authoritarian was stubborn. “You want us to stop our rally because of some threat made in a war game? That’s ridiculous.”

The Interpol leader pulled out the contract. “We agreed to let you have this date despite the war games provided you agreed to the terms. You did, and thus this threat must be treated as viable. Our terrorist opposition has openly pointed your organization out. You must have heard it; the threat is all over the media today.”

“You are infringing on our rights. We will go through with this. And we don’t need your help.”

* * *

 

X looked over the Authoritarian rally. The audience was mostly ignorant, but the leaders were master manipulators. They insisted on this date for historical importance. They had agreed to the war game terms. Now to see if they would follow through.

X checked his mini-comp to see who was on emergency duty. The Maverick Hunters, the sole agency exclusively staffed with reploids. This was either going to be a plucky publicity stunt or a PR disaster. He crossed his fingers and hoped for the best.

He slipped on an overcoat and took off his helmet. With some boots, he became passably human. Just so long as no one looked at him too close. He drifted into the rally crowd and placed his flash bombs just so. This would be the biggest blast of the game.

* * *

 

“We have another attack! We need immediate scouts on hand.”

Zero’s mismatched squads were ready to go. “Where’s the attack?”

“The Authoritarian rally.”

“And who else is with us?”

The field manager cringed. “No one.”

“Crud,” he muttered. To his men, he announced, “Ignore their bigotry. This is an emergency, so assist all the injured without prejudice. Under no circumstance should any weapon be fired.”

* * *

 

X watched the evening news on a coffee shop television. The Hunters responded to their duty and helped the Authoritarians who hated all reploids. It even made international news. “Chicago may be under war games and no actual threat,” the reporter said, “but the actions of these reploids accurately reflect how they would behave in a real emergency. Therefore the Authoritarians will need to think their arguments out more carefully if they wish to prove reploids better off gone.”

That was one of his goals down, to disrupt the Authoritarian rally. His main goal was slowly coming into focus. To make it clear that the mistreatment and abuse of reploids could cause violent retaliation. X did not believe in violent retaliation, but knew other reploids did. It was one of those reploids who had indirectly convinced him to join the Maverick Hunters. The war game format allowed him to play out what could happen.

The thing that made him most nervous was that he might be seeing his own words come right back at him if a violent rebellion ever took place.

There was a third goal, to test out weak spots in law enforcement. That happened in his first bombing. So two out of three goals were accomplished. He checked his mini-comp for the latest developments. Something very interesting had come up. X smiled and picked up his cell phone.

* * *

 

Zero looked at the image and felt uneasy. The Interpol officer with him turned the screen around. “Is this the reploid you gave the range upgrade to?”

The weapons shopkeeper nodded. “Yeah. He said it was for skeet shooting.”

“And what’d he give as his name?”

“Red Joe. Should’ve known better, though. Didn’t have a bit of red on him.”

“So why wasn’t this upgrade put into the system normally?”

He shrugged. “Oh, well, you know.”

“We apparently don’t,” Zero said.

“A lot of the employers around here don’t like their reploids to have weapon systems, so it’s common for customers to ask for a quiet register. Lets them get the upgrade but it won’t come up immediately in work files. There’s no law against that. And he seemed like a local. Knew the area very well.”

“Did you get an address or RIN on him?” the officer asked.

“No, he paid in full with cash.”

“You sure this is him?” Zero asked, not sure he wanted to believe it.

“Absolutely.”

They discussed the case some more, then thanked the shopkeeper and left. Interpol had found signature markers; since it was a reploid shop, they asked one Hunter commander to tag along. Zero happened to be available. The quiet registry was a potential problem, but that was hardly on his mind.

“You recognize this reploid?” the officer asked him.

Zero nodded. “X, a friend of mine. But according to our records,” he displayed a status screen, “he died in the first attack.”

The human rubbed his chin. “Very convenient for him. Could I check into your repair shop?”

“Sure, I’ll take you in.”

The repair shop was piecing together the victims, to get an idea of what weapons were being used. And, if this were a real scenario, to make certain the victims were unsalvageable. They weren’t too busy this week.

“We need to review our deaths for the initial attack,” Zero told the mechanics.

A female led them to that section. “Actually, there was something odd, but we weren’t sure what to make of it. Here, remember your VR lens.”

They slipped those on so that the ‘bodies’ were visible. “What is it?”

“As you can see, twenty individuals were in the tent. We have nineteen bodies.”

“And X is missing.”

“You knew that?”

“Hunch. But his badge registered him dead.”

“I know. We set this area for him. See what’s there?”

“Looks like the badge and a small motor.”

“Take off your lens.”

And there was the Maverick Hunter badge and a small motor. The Interpol officer picked the motor up. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“It’s a fan motor that’s been manipulated so that the badge reads it as a living reploid and would shut off when the bombs were detonated. And if you check out the badge history…” she brought out a mini-comp screen, “you’ll see that X is registered as dead about 0430 hours, but comes back to life five minutes later.”

“So by the time the bombs went off, he was long gone.”

“Right. It’s a clever set up.”

“It fits our profile. Now if we could get his battle records and find his next move before he starts.”

“But he’s only first year, right? So he can’t be doing this alone.”

Zero smiled. “He just might be. Thank you.”

* * *

 

“So we’ve been strung along by a first year?” Sigma asked.

Zero nodded. “There are aspects of X’s personality that don’t match up with the Interpol profile. But for the war games, he seems to have taken on a slightly different persona that does. This evidence proves he is on the terrorist side.”

“So is he working alone or with someone else?” the Marine general asked.

“Others,” the IAF general said. “He couldn’t have bombed all our camps simultaneously.”

The investigating officer shook his head and changed the screen display. “Checking his recent work log, he was on the multi-agency inspection team for the camps. This group cleared everyone as secure, so it’s reasonable he could have planted the bombs in the week leading up to the start date.”

“Is that legal?”

The Interpol leader nodded. “Nothing says the mock terrorist must start on the start date. He’s stayed within his rules.”

“Just to make sure, the rest of you may wish to review the remains of the initial bombing, in case any others slipped out like he did.”

* * *

 

Shortly after the meeting, Zero’s phone rang. The number rang up as unknown. He frowned; his personal number was unlisted, given only to a chosen few. He answered it. “Who is this?” he demanded.

“Hello, Zero.” It was X. “How are things going over there?”

“You’re supposed to be dead, X.”

“Yeah, but we both know I’m the mock terrorist. You… just came out of a meeting with the agency leaders, correct?”

Zero looked around. He was inside a building, in a hall. There was a security camera. He looked up at it. “And you know this how?”

“I know.”

He decided to check out the security office. “You’re playing this really dirty, you know that?”

“Isn’t that to be expected? They ask for a full scale test and I don’t have a fifth of the rules you do.”

“I know those rules. I just never saw this in you.”

“Given how things have run so far, I don’t think you’ll stop my final goal.”

“Final goal?”

“I’m two-thirds of the way to completing my goals. You must try harder than you did with the Authoritarian rally. This could be bigger. It’ll definitely be showier.”

Zero opened the security station door, confusing security officers inside. He quickly typed up, ‘You have a hacker.’ They checked it out in a hurry. “What are you trying to do? The Authoritarians aren’t coming back, not after you blew their rally apart.”

“Someone worse than them. And when you think I have lost, I will have won.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Listen to the local channels. See if you can riddle me out before I announce the next target. Between that and the actual attack, your time will be slim.”

“Don’t play games with us.”

“Zero, this is one big game. Good bye.” He hung up.

Zero grumbled. “Well?”

“Are you sure? We see no signs of hacker activity.”

He brought up the suspect list, which only held X’s name. “That’s because he knows our system. And he’s in the system now. We’d best get him out before anything else is compromised.” Then Zero dialed up Sigma.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just been called by X. He knows we suspect him now.”

“So it is him?”

“He says he has another attack that he will announce, but I say we need to figure out his next target and capture him asap.”

* * *

 

Who could be worse that the Authoritarians? The Business Bureau of Chicago.

X had chosen them as his main target through careful study. The Business Bureau, acting in the interest of human business leaders, pressured City Council into passing laws that allowed workplace abuse and mistreatment of reploids. These laws also allowed human business owners to run reploids out of owning businesses. There was a union for reploid business owners that were trying to save each other from theft, blackmail, and scare tactics. But they were getting little notice.

Obviously, a violent protest was not the way to handle this situation. But a few individuals had made small strikes against the Business Bureau, trying to get noticed. Would a large simulate strike get better notice?

Still, X could hardly believe he was going through with this. He’d expected to be caught by now. But now that his last day was here, he had until midnight to go through with his plans. It would be cowardly not to.

The Bureau was meeting tonight. At that time, X was in a subway train, headed for City Hall. He checked his mini-comp. It said Sigma had been stationed at the subway station, for security purposes. And he would be looking for X.

That would complicate matters. He glanced about the train, soon spotting a trio of punk reploids. Not mavericks, just ordinary troublemakers. X made his way over to them. “You’ve got good taste in music,” he commented to one of them. He was wearing a sticker for a liberal alternative rock band.

The punk with the sticker and spiked purple hair smirked. “What of it, Mr. Straight-Weld?”

X just smiled. “I’m not quite what I appear.” He quickly flashed a ten-piece zenny. “I’ll give you three of these a piece if you make a racket at the station.”

They looked interested, but skeptical. “What for?”

“I got word there’s this bald guy who’s stuffier than I am. I’d like to make a fool of him, but in order to do it with style, I need some back-up.”

“All right. But you pay up now.”

“Sure enough.” He handed over ninety zenny to the punk group.

They were pleased. So when the subway train stopped, they got off first and searched for stuffy bald guys. Sigma was there, and the three punks approached him. “Hey loose screw, where’d you get that stupid cape? It’s got some weird funk to it.”

“Excuse me,” he said to them. “I’m an official on duty.”

“No kidding. So who messed up your soul program?”

While they harassed him, X weaved through the crowd, avoiding Sigma’s eyes. He slipped a flash bomb out of his pocket and set it. He did respect the Maverick Hunter commander, but X didn’t like him personally. Might as well have some fun.

He set it to detonate in seconds and hurried up the stairs. His badge reported minor shock, but nothing to stop him. Several people had come up with him, thankfully. A crowd of curious on-lookers gathered. X made his way against them and quick walked up to City Hall.

In order to get into City Hall, one had to go through a fancy park. There was a large crowd there, not for the Bureau meeting, but for a free jazz concert. There were multiple bands and dancing areas. People were rushing about, trying to catch their favorites, so he didn’t stand out too much.

But X caught sight of Zero. Had they caught on, or were they playing guards to the concert? It didn’t matter. If Zero caught sight of him now, it was over. Yet he didn’t dare shoot with this many people about. If Sigma was guarding the subway, and Zero was in this park, there had to be other Hunters close by.

Keeping an eye on Zero, X made his way through the crowd. His last look showed Zero receiving some message. He began scanning the crowd. This was cutting it fine.

There was a policeman guarding the doors. “Hold it, we need…”

Yeah, he wanted to check ID. X gave him a quick pepper spray. That was legal to the games. Gagging, the guard stumbled aside. X went in. Now, to locate the appropriate chamber.

He found the door he wanted and went inside. As the door shut, he heard Zero shout, “X, stay where you are!”

This was surreal. But Zero hadn’t caught him yet. As X had planned, he’d come into a shadowy doorway. He only had a dozen flash bombs left, but they were attached to his armor. He instructed his computer to detonate the last bombs. The battle simulator calculated how much destructive power the bombs plus his body would combine to have. It wiped out all of the Business Bureau members in a virtual way and did some minor actual damage to X’s armor.

X smiled to himself as he appeared in the teleport dead zone. He’d ‘died’. But he’d won.

This would look really bad on the law enforcement agencies side.

* * *

 

X played the commons piano. During this whole game, he hadn’t gotten to play. X closed his eyes and just thought about the music.

“You have got some nerve,” Zero scolded. “Doing all that on your own and not telling me.”

He smiled. “Well, that plan worked best as a soloist. If I had gone for a group, you would have been the first I’d’ve asked.”

“And that’s supposed to make up for playing you were dead?”

“I dunno.”

“And how you made fools out of all of us? I really didn’t see that in you.”

“I did what was asked of me, nothing more.” X looked up and saw that Zero was still looking at him sternly. “I, um, didn’t think the game would affect you that much.”

“It was just a game.” He paused. “Still, it did shake me up a bit, especially after I figured out it was you. Normally these games don’t bother me.”

“I thought so. But sorry.”

“For what?”

“For bothering you like that.”

He crossed his arms on his chest, then decided to scratch his head instead. “Look, normally I don’t hang out with people like you. I’ve strictly associated with warriors. But I decided to train you anyways, so you would survive.”

“So I’d survive?”

Zero snorted. “Yes, that. You didn’t stand a chance when you walked onto base. I had to do something. I mean you… I change my mind; I don’t often meet people like you. Most around here live for battle. Or they’re office drones. You’re into everything else in the world, music, art, philosophy…” he stopped, apparently because he wasn’t sure where he was going.

“So you do like that sort of stuff too?”

“I might. You’re just so different. I mean I…”

“You want to keep me alive so you can learn about these ‘other things’ without being ridiculed by others.”

“I don’t know how you see through me like that.”

“The same way you do to me.”

“You’d honestly destroy yourself for your ideals?”

X considered it, then shrugged. “I guess so, if the ideal or goal was important enough. It’s not something to do without reason. But if it became absolutely necessary, I might go that far. Can’t really know until I get there, you see?”

“I see.” Zero nodded, then clapped X on the back. “In all honesty, you did me proud out there. I guess I don’t have to worry about you anymore.”

“So you want to take piano lessons?”

For a moment, it looked like he would refuse as usual. But then he sat on the bench. “I’m not sure if I’ll be any good at it. Fighting’s all I’ve ever done.”

“Well then it’s about time you tried something else.”

* * *

 

“Thank god I don’t have to fake that limp anymore,” Sigma said.

Vile was in his office while they reviewed his reinstatement papers. He’d been on probation for a long time, for being too aggressive. He was currently sharpening a knife. “War games can be pesky in that regard. But this has effectively demonstrated that even a single reploid can make a large impact on the human community.”

“Which means even if I don’t bring you back, we’ll overrun the other agencies in no time.”

“Either that or the ancient one got lucky.”

Sigma took a file and pulled out the war games report on X’s mock terrorism. “Luck cannot account for all this. He’s one to watch out for.”

“The son of Light? His systems are pitifully outdated. He can’t be a threat to you. Although if he did come to our side…”

“He won’t, I can assure you of that. That is why when we do attack, I want you to take him out as quickly as possible. Personally.”

Vile smirked. “Me against X? That’s no contest Sigma.”

“I know. But according to this, if he has time to prepare, he can be a pesky foe. He made us all look like fools. I want him out of play early, so he doesn’t become a thorn in our side.”

He took the war games report. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll take him out like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“I’m counting on it, Vile.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the first fanfics that I posted online, perhaps the first one ever (it's been years). I made some minor modifications, but most of it is my old writing. While I plan to add it to a series here, it has early installment weirdness due to being so old, before I had a solid grasp of where I was going with this fandom. However, it follows similar themes to the other parts of the series and it's a good demonstration of how I view the friendship between X and Zero. So I decided to add it anyhow even though it doesn't match up well with the other works.


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